Taylor included their mother in that statement because for a long time after their father died the woman was a shadow of herself. It was tough. Tougher for him because he had to hold his mother up while helping to raise his sister, completing his college work, and starting MatchMate.
His mom faced some dark times, darker than Taylor could ever imagine, but he’d done whatever it took to get them through and he was proud of his family because they’d come out of the tragedy stronger and closer.
There were so many things for him to consider, the business, his full schedule, his family. How could any woman put up with his hours and his need to prioritize his family over everything else in his life? And he’d have to make compromises for whatever his woman’s priorities were and if they clashed with his…
Then she wouldn’t be the woman for him.
Oak gained a new respect for the members of MatchMate. Dating was difficult. Sometimes there was chemistry, but that didn’t mean a relationship would work. And there were certainly matches made by the system that didn’t produce marriages, what was the secret?
Turning around, he saw Thirteen was there by the buffet, nibbling on a shrimp, one small bite at a time as her interested eyes were flicking up and down from the food to the guy talking in front of her. She wasn’t interested. She looked it, but she wasn’t listening, he knew it.
Letting a smile slide to his lips, he exhaled. “What do you need me to sign?”
“Oh,” Taylor said with sudden joy. “I hear a sense of purpose, brother. Do we have a live one?”
Taking his focus to the files, he yanked the pen from Taylor’s hand and began to sign. “Love or not, I’ll get my cock sucked, so nothing really to lose, right?”
“Ew, Oak,” she said. “TMI.”
“Says the girl who talks about our mom’s sex life in the boardroom.”
“Yeah, if she hadn’t told me about sex stuff it would’ve fallen to you and I’d still think babies came from the stork. Mom is mom, she doesn’t mind girl talk. You’re you and… ew. You don’t have a penis.”
Taylor made him smile; she’d always managed it, even in the bleakest of times. “Yet you want me to have kids, how does that work?”
“You know what I mean. You’re my big brother, I don’t think of you…”
“Not talking?” he asked. When he was done, Oak slapped the last folder closed, gave her back her pen, and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Tay.”
“Course you do,” she said and grinned. “I’m the only good thing in your life… Change that for me, will you? Please?”
It might only be temporary, but he planned to. With that decision made, he sought out Thirteen and planned to interrupt her conversation and hopefully, her life.
Evie Dewar hadn’t worn brown for years. Though tan was a variety of brown, right? She’d worn tan. Beige, was that brown? It might be classified as a brown tone… depending on the depth of it.
What the hell was an earth-tones party anyway? Who ever heard of one of those? Sure, black tie, she got that, but earth tones? Who looked good in blah green? Tipping her head the other way, she took her final bite of shrimp and picked up a napkin from the table beside her to wipe her fingers.
Lime-green, she could rock lime-green—she had a lime-green bikini. Smiling, Evie tried to imagine how that would go across if she showed up for a formal function in a neon bikini. Though black tie meant formal, maybe earth tones was more relaxed.
“Excuse me, there’s been a mistake.”
Last she’d seen him, Oakley Orion had been at the bar with a blonde who seemed to like touching him. But here he was, striding over to her and… this buffet guy… wearing a stern expression.
“A mistake?” the guy asked.
Oakley took her arm and pulled her aside. “Yes, we have reason to believe that this woman is not who she appears to be.”
Shrugging at the buffet guy, Evie let herself be dragged away. “I thought you didn’t know who I was,” she hissed. “How can I not be who I appear to be when you don’t know who I am?” He led her over to the distressed-leather armchairs near the front window. “Do you think lime-green is an earth tone?”
“What?” he asked as he pushed her down into one of the high-back chairs set on either side of a low circular table. “I don’t think so.”
“Hmm,” she said. Damn, what was she going to wear now? Beige was her least favorite color ever. There was a brown dress in the back of her closet, but it had a plunge neckline, like a serious plunge neckline. “Have you ever heard of an earth-tones party?”
He smiled as he sat down and waved at the bartender. Ok, good, alcohol. But that was such a man thing to do, ‘let’s steal the woman and liquor her up.’ She should refuse to drink on principle… but she wouldn’t.
“Why do you always do that?” he asked when he looked at her again.
“What?” she asked. “What do I do?”
“You take control,” he said. “I just dragged you over here, you have no idea why, and you don’t even blink, you just jump straight into steering.”
She’d have thought the why was obvious. “Are you threatened by confident women?” she asked, pushing out her lips in a mocking pout. “Oh, Mr. Orion, I’m sure your penis isn’t that tiny. Most men greatly over-exaggerate—”
He laughed. “And then you do that. You say something shocking that you think will make me capitulate. Don’t worry, I’m sure it works with plenty of guys and I commend you for trying.” Their eyes met. He peered closer, lowering his volume. “I don’t scare that easy. You talk about my tiny penis as much as you like.”
The female server who approached with their drinks slowed.
Evie couldn’t contain her grin but did wrinkle her nose as she waved her pinkie at the blushing youngster. “We give him points for admitting his shortcomings,” she said, beckoning the woman over. Taking the drinks from the tray, she put Oakley’s on the table and sipped from her own. “You remind your friend behind the bar not to break my heart.”
The server glanced at Oakley before turning the tray under her arm and scurrying away. “Can’t wait for the memo I’ll get about that on Monday,” he muttered.
Sipping her drink, Evie crossed her legs. “Oh, you have to admit, that was funny… and I’m sure your blonde at the bar will set everyone straight.”
“My blonde at the bar?” he asked, glancing over at the bar with his hand half-way to his beer bottle. “I haven’t touched that server.”
Evie tutted. “The blonde with the files who loved touching you.”
It took a second, but clarity came with a smile. “Taylor?” he asked and picked up his drink. “No, actually, I think she’ll kind of enjoy the office having a laugh at my expense.”
“Oh, then I like her already. And what a great way to scare off the competition; just let everyone think you’re sexually inadequate and you’ll never screw around on her.”
Something odd crossed his face as he pushed back in the seat. “I’m not sleeping with Taylor,” he said.
“Why not? She’s hot. I’d do her.”
That amused him into a half smile. “She’ll be pleased to hear that.”
“Is she gay?” Evie asked, happily sitting up straighter to enhance her interest. “Lucky me.” Letting her purse drop from under her arm to the chair, she popped it open. “Can I have her number?”
“You want to sleep with Taylor?” he asked, really seeming to enjoy this. “You know, what? I should give you her number. It would serve her right to be pestered by you.”
“I don’t pester,” Evie said. “And whether we sleep together or not, you won’t be invited to the party.”
“I’m ok with that,” he said, bobbing his head before he drank more beer.
Hmm, no flirting about a threesome or seeing some girl-on-girl action. Okay. Time to figure this guy out.
Tipping her head, Evie focused on his bottle. “Men like you don’t usually drink beer.”
He raised his brows, signaling int
erest. “What do men like me usually drink?”
“Bourbon,” she said. “Expensive Scotch… Daddy drinks.”
Angling his bottle, he licked the beer from his lips as he considered it. “You want me to drink a Daddy drink? Would that do it for you?”
Her nose scrunched for half a heartbeat. “It doesn’t sound right when you say it… maybe in ten years.”
Taking her time to sip from her own glass, she glanced over her shoulder at the clock.
“Why do you look at the clock so much?”
“Because I time my interactions,” she said and then stopped to regroup.
What? Had she just been that honest?
“Ah,” he said. “I’m on a countdown.”
“Yep,” she said. “So if you have something profound to say, you should say it now.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of being someone else all the time?”
“Who says I’m being somebody else?”
“You played the confident sasspot with me, then moved onto the innocent babygirl with the next guy at the speed-dating. I bet if I asked any of them about you, they’d all tell me that you have a different personality.”
Shaking her head, she sucked down more martini. “I only have five or six personalities, and they’re all me.”
That was enough to worry him into a frown. “You have split personalities?”
She should say yes just to scare him away, but instead she laughed. “Don’t we all? Come on, Mr. Orion, we’re all different people depending on our audience. You’re not the same guy with your blonde as you are in the boardroom, are you?”
“The blonde is usually in the boardroom,” he said. “And she’s usually busting my chops.”
“Foreplay,” she said, dismissing him with a lift of her glass.
His eyes slipped to the side and his expression contorted. “Uh, no, definitely not that.”
“Sure, it is. Arguing is the best form of foreplay.”
“Is it?” he asked, flaring with interest. “You’d like a fractious relationship?”
Ha, not a chance. Admiring the light playing on the surface of her drink, she leaned back. “I don’t want any kind of relationship, Mr. Orion.”
“Oak,” he said. “Everyone just calls me Oak.” Whatever, why should she care? She didn’t. “And what should I call you?”
Pushing her shoulder into the chair, she thrust her right boob forward to show him the sticker on it. “I’m number thirteen.”
“You were number thirteen at the speed-dating too,” he said.
Nodding, she enjoyed another mouthful of alcohol. “No one ever wants to be thirteen, so I give the guy on the door taking our cards a break, and I ask for it… Puts a lot of guys off too. I’m unlucky.”
Intrigue narrowed his eyes. “What kind of person joins a dating agency but wants to put guys off?”
“The kind of person who likes open bars, free food, and desperate cock,” she said, raising her glass to him again. “Now, Oak, I think we’ve exceeded our six minutes.”
Leaving her chair, Evie was going to go back to the buffet, but he lunged forward and caught her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. “What’s your name?”
“None of your business,” she said.
“What do you do? Honestly?”
Sucking in a breath, she acted like she was considering the truth, then smiled. “That’s none of your business either.”
“You’ll talk about sex with me, offer to suck me off, but you won’t give me your name.”
“I retracted that offer,” she said. “And what do names have to do with orgasms? I could be Priscilla, or Nancy, or Jane Doe… whatever the hell the guy wants to call me, what does it matter?” Snatching her hand away from him, she bent to put her face near his. “If it makes him happy to call me Mommy, or spank me like a naughty schoolgirl, why should I limit his pleasure? Isn’t that the point, Mr. Orion? Aren’t we all here to maximize our pleasure?”
“You are a whore,” he said, but she didn’t know if he meant it or was trying to shock her, giving her a dose of her own medicine.
Either way, it didn’t matter; she wasn’t going to give him the response he wanted. Instead, she smiled and inhaled a sharp pant that might mimic a woman surrendering to passion. “Thank you, Oak… That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Turning her back on him, she swayed her hips as she moved toward the buffet table. Inhaling, she circled her lips and blew out her breath slowly.
Evie. Keep it together. She hoped he didn’t notice the rise of her shoulders or the erratic thrum of her pulse.
Of all the men she could find herself attracted to, after all this time, why did it have to be that one?
three
Evie did the smartest thing she could and switched her routine. Going to the Tuesday night speed-dating on the other side of town was the best way to ensure she never saw Oakley Orion again.
There had been something so shrewd about the way he looked at her, and the way he spoke, as if he knew her, and had a right to talk to her in a familiar way.
No. She couldn’t tolerate that.
The bell rang out and she sat back to pull her phone from her purse to make her notes. The guy who sat down next didn’t say anything… and she kept her head down. Maybe he’d stay quiet for the whole six minutes. Good. Finally, she’d get a break.
“Seems pointless to rate the guys when you don’t stick around at the end to fill out your comments card.”
Oh. Great.
Forcing herself to smile, Evie looked up and considered the man opposite her before she sighed out his name. “Oak.”
“Hey, Thirteen… or can I call you Evie?”
Ah, she circled her lips. “Somebody’s been naughty,” she said. “Does the handsome, rich CEO want to be punished? You want Mommy to spank you?”
“My mom never spanked me.”
“Then I guess there’s nothing weird about you enjoying it then, is there?” she asked and folded her arms on the table. “Should we do it here, in front of all these people? Think we’d go over our six minutes?”
“Depends how good you are at it,” he said.
“Oh, I’m good,” she said, straightening her spine. “What a shame I’m not interested in being your media patsy.”
Ha, she liked that look, he was surprised. “My media patsy?”
“Sure,” she said. “I saw the article online this week. You’re on a quest for love and trust the only way to find it is through MatchMate.” Waving her hand at him, she scowled. “You’re not looking for love, Oak. So, it’s a marketing play.”
Grinning, he got closer. “I guess you know about business, Ms. Freelance Personnel Consultant. You majored in psychology. No wonder you know how to play every guy who sits opposite you. People are what you do all day.”
Pressing her fingertips to her lips, she did her best Marilyn Monroe gasp. “Not all day, Mr. Orion, a girl has to eat. She can’t exist on a diet of spunk alone.”
“She can if her guy eats right.”
Damn her for enjoying that joke, but the smile that burst to her lips was genuine and as if he knew that, Oak returned the expression with equal sincerity.
Fuck.
Dropping her attention, Evie tried to pull it together, but when her eyes rose to his, they were looking right through her. “Has it been six minutes?”
“Not yet,” he said. “I’ve still got time.”
She should never have told him about timing her interactions; Evie was still beating herself up about making the confession. Honesty was against all her rules.
“What are you doing away over here on this side of town anyway?” she asked. “All the classy chicks are uptown.”
“You never showed at the event last night. So I checked, you changed your dates… and your location,” he said and seemed to enjoy smirking at her. “Are you avoiding me, Miss Dewar?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Are you stalking me?”
“Stalk
ing? No.”
“Good, because it’s against MatchMate rules and I would really hate to have to report you.”
He laughed. “I think there are few things in life you’d enjoy more than reporting me to my own management team.”
Actually, now that he mentioned it; that could be a lot of fun. Nothing would ever come of it, except her possibly losing her membership, but it might be fun all the same.
“Then I think you better come up with a damn good reason for coming here tonight that doesn’t involve stalking… and do it fast, because we’re running out of time.”
“I came to offer you a job.”
A job? What the hell? She was here to date not to solicit work. “I told you, Oak. I would be an awful media patsy… imagine me on the morning shows, what the hell would I say? And you know, I’d never be discreet. I don’t know how to be. I’d spend all day talking about your tiny penis and how you love to call me Mommy as I spank you for being naughty.”
God, he had the most amazing grin. His whole face came alive with the emotions he didn’t even try to hide. Oakley was the complete opposite of her in so many ways; he was open, so free with his answers and his emotions. None of which was on her agenda.
“Which is exactly why I’ll never put you in front of a camera,” he said. “Come to the office tomorrow at nine and we’ll talk.”
“What is it you want me to do for you? I’m a whore, I’m not a hooker,” she said, folding her arms and wondering why the hell he’d gotten it into his head that she would want to see him every day. “Freelance personnel consultant does not mean prostitute, just in case the Urban Dictionary somehow gave you the wrong impression of what I do.”
“No wrong impression,” he said. The bell sounded, making him rise from his chair. Oak leaned over the table to mutter, “Switch it on, honey, the next guy’s got a monster cock, he was talking about it at the bar before we started.”
As he leaned back, he winked at her and then disappeared to the next table. Her date came around the screen and the scrawny guy couldn’t top more than five foot. With sweat stains under his arms and a sheen on his forehead, Evie wasn’t sure she wanted to shake his hand, but when he noticed her breasts she took a breath.
Thirteen Page 3
